


Gafou OneShots

by Nitrosion_Why



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Angels, Demons, Drinking, Happy, M/M, Oneshot, Romance, a lot of that, and happiness, bittersweet happy, booze, drunk, grog, i cant remember the first one, i guess, its only sad sometimes, just sad, not really sad, old versions, one shots, several ones, thats it, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 07:47:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14637317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrosion_Why/pseuds/Nitrosion_Why
Summary: A few short stories of Gafou because I want to do more with this ship. I'm not sure how many there will be.





	1. Old Stories

Gaston is sitting on the porch, rocking his chair back and forth as his faithful dog lays at his feet. A smile spreads across his face as he pats the dogs warm and greying head. "Lefou, remember the old days? The hunts that we would go on, the tavern we would drink at all night long and talk and sing and dance?"

Lefou was in the kitchen, through the screen door that was open due to the nice day. The sun caressing the two story house the couple had bought and built together, the slight breeze pushing the grass and trees that surrounded it. The small man smiled, making a breakfast for two, "I might not remember as well as you do." He responded with, wishing for the tall old man to continue. He wanted to hear his voice ramble about old hunts and kills he was proud of. Hunts that his dog had gone on and scared Lefou half to death when the poor thing came back bloody with a kill in it's mouth. He wanted to hear memories that he may have even forgotten.

The man on the porch chuckled, "Of course, love. You're memory has never been as good as mine!" This response made Lefou laugh, hearing the smile on Gaston's face when he said those words. It made it even more of a bright morning when the tall man smiled. 

Although the man in the kitchen didn't respond to it, his laugh was good enough to make Gaston begin a memory. "It was a dark and stormy night. We were out on our long hunting trip, just the two of us as we trudged through mud puddles that went to my knees and your hip!"

Lefou smiled, shaking his head as he shifted the pan. He had heard this story a hundred different times, the deepness of the mud changing with every telling. The small man could barely remember how deep it actually was, maybe it was up to his chest for all he could remember. His old mind had been getting the best of him lately, he presumed. 

Gaston continued, smiling and spreading his arms out, moving as much as he could to demonstrate the action, "We walked and walked, our legs too tired to carry their own weight let alone the weight of water splashing around in our boots! There wasn't any high ground in sight and it looked like the only choice was to climb the nearest tree. And I knew, for a fact, you wouldn't be able to get up there yourself."

That comment made Lefou pout playfully, pretending to be hurt by this but, it was true. He probabaly wouldn't be able to, especially now. He chuckled, smiling down at the food he was making, cooking it slow so he could hear the whole story. 

"I turned to you, the rain and wind so powerful that we had loose hairs everywhere, yours were wild as can be, stinging your eyes with every move. Mine were tied too tight for the wind to do too much damage with them." The man rocked forward, leaning to pet the dog as he spoke with excitement, "I watched your hairs whipping around your perfect face, the miserable look on it hurting my heart as I yelled to you, 'We have to climb this tree!'" Gaston imitated his own voice, yelling at a deeper octave. "You looked to me with wide eyes as a smile grew on my face, 'I can't climb that!' You screamed back," He made Lefou's voice higher and shrieking. 

That amused the small man as he smiled softly, imagining the setting to be dark, cold, rainy, and windy enough to steal his coat from his own flesh. A shiver was sent up his spin as he thought of that, maybe he did remember this.

Gaston rubbed the dog's head viciously, making the dog wag it's tail with happiness, "I took your hand and dragged you to the tree, making sure you didn't blow away in the wind!" A hearty laugh came after that, Lefou joining in to it before the man continued, "Even in the darkest of rainy nights, I could see that deep red blush of yours. You were so red that it matched my favourite coat!"

Lefou remembered that coat, thinking of what happened to it but, not being able to remember where it had gone. He smiled at that though, being able to remember the feeling of that blush along with the feeling of Gaston's soaked hands. He smiled.

"I told you to jump on my back" The tall man laughed, "You couldn't believe what I had said, you had to be reassured so many times that I just put you on my shoulders myself. You held on tight though, surprising compared to how shocked you were." Another laugh along with a wide smile, "I climbed the tree slowly, getting angry and yelling every time you tried to look down behind us. I kept telling you, 'Damn it, Lefou! You are going to kill us both if you keep looking down!' That didn't stop you though, you enjoyed the view too much."

The man began rocking in his chair again, taking in a deep breath, "And, right then, I realized I didn't care if you continued or not. Your passion was something I loved too much and mon dieu! Were you passionate about the way the rain rolled from leaf to leaf and slowly dripped down to the crunchy ground with a pitter-patter."

A soft smile was on Lefou's face, loving the words Gaston had just spoken, he always talked about all of Lefou's passions and how much he adored them. It made the small man love those things even more. 

"I carried you up to a branch that had to be twenty or thirty feet above the ground, sitting down and letting you crawl off my back. I let you lean against the trunk of the tree, making it less likely for you to fall." He smiled, laying his head on the back of the chair, "The wind was calmer up there, the leaves blocking most of it and surrounding trees helping the severity of the rain." 

A pause, Lefou waiting for the next words, knowing there is more to the story. The small man knew Gaston would want Lefou to finish it but, he couldn't he wanted to hear the man's voice. Wanted to hear those words again and again. 

"The quietness made my mind settle, made me say things that only you could hear. Things that before I said them, I wish you couldn't hear." He grinned, closing his eyes as he imagined this, "I took your hand, moving closer to you. I made up a ridiculous excuse like, 'I just don't want you to fall.' But, after ten minutes of sitting that close, you put your hands to my face and began untying my hair. You were blushing immensely, mumbling how my hair was going to bother you if you didn't fix it." A small chuckle escaped Gaston's lips before continuing, "You retied my hair, pulling your hands back. But, I could feel them linger behind my neck. I couldn't stop but grab your hands and intertwine our fingers. I smiled shyly to you, feeling as if I was an inexperienced teen again. You smiled, staring into my eyes as our lips collided."

Lefou smiled sadly at that, tears forming in his eyes. He remember that night so well, so in detail. He remembered every touch and move, the marks Gaston had left, and how numb he made his hands feel from tracing the details of them so many times. 

"Soon enough, you ended up in my lap, legs around my waist as we continued to kiss. We got carried away on a branch in the middle of the biggest storm I had seem in years. All I could think of what it would be like to be in your little cabin, getting carried away like that." Gaston smiled, putting his arms behind his head and stretching, "Then we moved here, away from those who judged us and got married with a flower ring I made you. The one that is still sitting on your dresser, tight as can be and still looking like I made it yesterday because of how many tries, cuts, and grass stains it took.  You wouldn't believe that it was made nearly...What..? Ten years ago now?"

Lefou smiled in the kitchen, sliding his breakfast onto his plate, "Twelve.. Two have been lonely without you.." 

He sat the plate on the table, walking to the screen door and peering out on the porch. An imprint of a dog who had laid at the foot of a rocking chair too long and that chair being rocked by the wind, empty like it has been since that day. The day Lefou lost what his life was. 

The small man looked across the yard, spotting the fading view of a man and his dog. A man who stood tall as if in his twenties, built as can be with his young hound, spinning in circles as it waited for it's master to throw the ball once again. The tall man smiled to Lefou, waving with a sad yet soft and happy expression on his face. The two blowing away when the wind picked up for a few seconds. 

Lefou took a deep breath, tears dripping from his eyes, "I'll see you soon, Gaston... Until then... I'll continue listening to the stories you loved to tell."


	2. Musician

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lefou likes this one.

The sun shone through the windows, the blinds opened to let it through along with the glass moved to let in the breeze. The dust lazily swirling around the room as the sun pointed it out to the few people in the tavern. It was early morning, before noon or even eleven, the musicians playing a soft and slow tune that the bartender obviously enjoyed as he tapped his foot and ran a cloth across a tin cup.

The tender held a small smile as he heard the doors open, an unexpected thing after the late Saturday night that might have never ended for some. He took a short glance up at the group of three that came in. Two ran straight for the bathrooms, one looking as if to vomit as the other groaned in pain from the weeping ill. The third, the one he could actually look at because this man wasn't running in the opposite direction, walked to the bar. It was a small and plump man, shoulder length locks tied back messily with a small red ribbon, shirt and jacket a mess but still matching the colour of the ribbon, and a pair of shorts that seemed to have been cut unprofessionally from what must have been a pair of jeans. 

 

He sat on one of the stools, hearing the soothing music from the band as he rubbed his temples and closed his eyes to grimace. His head hurt, he was dizzy, he didn't know if he was hungry or not, he was tired, he wanted to go home. But no. Of course his friends would drag him to the nearest bar so they can fix their hangovers with more booze because that is the best way to spend a Sunday. A Sunday morning too! 

The man made a sort of growl, clearing his throat and expressing anger at the same time. He rested his head in his hands, opening his eyes and looking to the bathrooms. His friends wouldn't be back anytime soon, would they?

He sighed, mumbling to himself quietly as his head throbbed, "Oh Lefou, why must you do this to yourself?" 

The bartender stifled a laugh, now standing in front of the poor and lonely man, "Anything I can get ya?"

Lefou looked up, a tired grin crossing his lips as he realized where he was and how miserable he must look, "Tea." He mumbled, sitting up and stretching with a weak yawn, "A nice, warm, cup of tea."

"Comin' right up." The tender smiled, swaying around the bar elegantly, footing matching the music that was still playing. This made the small man smile, now feeling more awake but, still in a slight daze. He slowly looked to the step of a stage, seeing the four member band that was only instruments.

The dust swirled around them, windows surrounding the group as their eyes closed and their feet tapped, the beat making the pounding head of Lefou's melt into a quiet mind. His smile was now full of teeth, looking at the four. There was a women, who looked about in her twenties with long dark brown hair tied up in a bun, on drums, another on a piano, this one having short blond hair that barely made it to her ears before stopping, a man with a pretty brown sort of mullet, playing a guitar like instrument with a banjo nearby, maybe used for certain songs, and, finally, to balance it all out, a tall man playing the saxophone.

This man caught Lefous's eye. His hair was black, a shiny black, a black that made the sun spread to the walls that the windows couldn't hit alone. It was tied back in a low hanging pony tail, low enough to lay on his back as he blew into the instrument. The string that held his hair, matched the bright red suit he wore, white ruffles coming from his under shirt that exposed some of his chest. The hairs trying to escape even though they seemed to never be trapped for very long due to the tan he wore so proudly. Lefou would bet money on every inch of his skin being that shade, even the special parts.

 

A mug was placed in front of him with a small clunk, inches from his hand that was resting on the bar top. Lefou didn't look immediately, the sight of the saxophone player still stunning his bloodshot eyes. This made the tender look in the direction he was staring, "The tall one right? He's Gaston."

Lefou looked over to the tender quickly, "What?" He spun his chair a bit to face the bar, noticing the tea and putting his hand around it, wanting to take a sip of the healing nectar. 

"Gaston. The one you're staring at. He's here all the time. If not playing, drinking. He even comes here without his buds sometimes, its like this place is his second home. Or even his first since I haven't gone a day in fifteen years without seeing him." The tender smiled, leaning on his hands that laid on the opposite side of the bar. He was still looking to Gaston, the man's eyes closed and not listening to the two of them talk.

Lefou smiled, an intrigued smile, his eyes drifting back to the man he now knew as Gaston. Such a fitting name for such a powerful sound that the man could make, a sound that went in tune with his looks. "Gaston... Hmm"

The tender went back to one of the sinks, picking up his towel again as the smile stayed plastered to his lips. He listened for the ending of the song, the end that was very close. 

The small man that sat at the bar, sipped his tea, looking at the band and tapping his finger on the mug to the beat. His head was tilted in amusement as he watched the tall man dance around the others, smiling and laughing in between breaths as the song died slowly. When it did, the group smiled, talking. Gaston putting a hand to the guitar players shoulder as they laughed. 

 

A whistle came from the tender, a warning whistle, a very noticeable one. Lefou looked quickly to him. Although, so did Gaston. It was how the tender got his attention normally when he wanted to request a song or had his drink made for him. Lefou felt a heat creep to his cheeks as he looked back to the band, catching Gaston's eyes that were full of wonder. Wonder as to why the tender whistled, wonder that soon became flirtation when the eyes found the tender's smirk, flirtation that was aimed to the messily adorable man that sat on a bar stool. 

Gaston looked to the band, a smile on his face as he spoke in hushed voices. The smiles that everyone had, grew a bit, their eyes flashing to Lefou who was staring in confusion. The tall man laughed, "It'll only be a minute, I swear!" 

The others joined into the laugh, nodding as they picked up or went to their instruments again. Mullet man, the guitar player, picked up the banjo that sat to the side, catching the small man's gaze with a wink. The drummer tapped her sticks together, drumming a quick yet impossibly soft beat immediately. The piano joining into the bass and the banjo jumping in with the saxophone. 

It was an upbeat song, a quick and lively one, the type of music Lefou loved. Music that didn't hurt his head even if he was hungover, which oddly enough, he was. The small man shook his head, closing his eyes and smiling. When he opened them again, Gaston was looking at him. The tall man had a smirk on his face, a smirk that changed the tune barely enough to notice. 

Gaston winked, tapping his foot to the lively music as the banjo played quickly with the rest of the instruments. The pace picking up even faster, surprising lefou as his foot tapped and his whole body danced, still sitting on the stool. if only he had someone to dance with. If only Gaston wasn't the one on the stage. 

 

The music ended just as quickly as it had begun, the players breathing heavily and laughing together. Gaston staring at the small man, wondering what he thought while the other three walked off, taking a well deserved break at the bar. Lefou smiled and clapped. The tender looking to them, smirking proudly at what he did. 

The man at the bar smiled at Gaston, the man breathing heavily with a toothy grin and happiness in his eyes. A bit of sweat, that slid down the side of his face, glistened as the man stood up straight, a wondrous sight to the small man. A sight that made him laugh, a sight that he wished would stay with him for a long while.


	3. Do I deserve you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tavern is closed after a hunting trip so the two end up at Gaston's, drinking the night away. Well, one of them.

Lefou steps into the two story house that belonged to the great Gaston, the one and only had gone in a few seconds before him. They hung the kills in the barn, putting the horses in their stables and unloading the weapons from them. The two had gotten back too late to trade anything. 

The small man looked up at Gaston when a loud bag of coins hit the table, the coins they had left over from the trip, "The tavern! Closed! Knowing I wouldn't get back until late night or even early morning!" The taller man was steaming at the fact they couldn't drink out at the moment. It was routine to go hunting, return home, trade the things, unload, and, finally, drink until the sun came up.

Lefou sighed, "They aren't used to us coming back this late. They probabaly assumed we would stay out another night."

"Another night?" Gaston boomed, "It had been eleven days already!" He looked around his kitchen, pulling out a bottle of grog from one of the cupboards.

The small man watched him open it and sit in his antler and hide chair, "It is cold as well.. I suppose they closed early anyways." Lefou moved to Gaston's side, not tempting to get a bottle of grog for himself, especially in the other man's kitchen. He put his hands to Gaston's shoulders, rubbing circles in the man's shoulder blades, attempting to calm him down.

Gaston rolled his shoulders, melting at the touch of Lefou's. He opened the bottle, dumping some down his throat. He thought this would make him feel less cold. The tall man was too unmotivated to make a fire and just wanted to drink. If he got drunk enough, he wouldn't notice it. "That doesn't make it alright that I didn't get to drink at the tavern..."

Lefou smiled proudly to himself, Gaston was calming down. "Although, you still get to drink. It is only their loss." He continued rubbed the shoulders, running up the neck every few minutes.

The tall man nodded, taking another gulp from the bottle in his hand. He moved the bottle in a circle, hearing it slosh around, "Get me another bottle." 

A nod and a slip of the hands, the cold reaching Gaston's shoulders and neck. He shivered, suddenly wondering how Lefou's hands were so warm in this air. How was Lefou so warm all the time? He was like a walking furnace that made Gaston tired and too laid back when left alone with the heat. 

Lefou walked to the cupboard from before, one that he had watched Gaston open, and grabbed a bottle. Before he shut it, a distant voice rang, "Grab two" 

Another nod, even though the other man couldn't see these and they were essentially worthless. Lefou grabbed another bottle by it's neck and walked back to the hided chair, handing them both to the man sitting in it. Gaston took them both, opening the first one and handing it back to Lefou, "Come, sit." He patted the arm of his chair as he said this.

The small man smiled widely, sitting down and sipping at his gift from Gaston. Since it was a gift, he had to drink it, even though he didn't fancy the bitter liquid. "Thank you."

Gaston nodded, looking to the empty fireplace, "If you drink enough, you wont be cold anymore." He kind of chuckled when he said this, feeling the warmth radiating from the small man sitting on his left armrest. It was like a fire of his own, one that he didn't have to start or have kindling for. "Although, I suppose you aren't cold."

Giggling was all he got in return as Gaston lifted the bottle to his lips again, the first bottle now gone. He normally drank the first couple quickly, slowing down when he couldn't find his mouth anymore. 

"Lefou?" An unsure voice interrupted the small man's thoughts. Thoughts of nothing really, he would sit on the arm of Gaston's chair at the tavern and it felt normal doing it now. It was confusing though. The two never really got time to be alone together much anymore. Hunting trips usually included two or three other people, the tavern was always full, and with that situation with Belle... 

"Yes, captain?" Lefou hasn't said that in a long while, feeling a weight lift as he did. A small sting of regret coming to replace it.

Gaston threw his second bottle in a forming pile, looking to Lefou as the glass hit together. The small man nodded, handing his gift grog to Gaston and going to grab about three more. Maybe four. As he left, the other man took a swig of the new and barely touched bottle of bitterness. "I had forgotten you don't like the taste of this kind.." 

Lefou shrugged, "It doesn't matter. I'm in no mood to drink anyways." He placed the bottles under Gaston's right armrest, feeling watched as he bent down to the ground. 

"I should have something fruity in there from the whores that stop by." The taller man chuckled, his voice sounding more and more gruff as he drank. He was already three quarters the way through this one, "Or maybe some juice or fruit around so you can mix your own.."

Gaston watched Lefou shake his head and sit back down on the left armrest, "I am fine for now." 

"No" The one actually sitting in the chair, gulped down the last of the bottle, grabbed another and stood. He opened the new one as he walked to the cupboard to try and mix Lefou a well deserved drink. 

When he stood, Lefou fell into the chair sideways. His head was now resting on the left armrest, his knees on the other as he laid in the still warm seat. The small man giggled, "Gaston!!" He whined, dragging out the 'on' of the other mans name. A laugh was rewarded from that along with some clinking of glasses. 

The mixer had cut a lime in half and squeezed one of the pieces into a cup, putting beer on top of it with some other things that he pulled out. He stirred it with a straw, sipping it and smiling at his handy work. Gaston took a gulp of his own grog, turning on his heels with both hands full and walking to the chair. Lefou was still there, listening and too comfy to get up. He was handed the mix anyway, turning himself up right to take it. 

Lefou sniffed it, wondering how it was made but sure it would taste good due to who made the concoction. As he was inspecting it, he felt a weight sit next to him. A weight that moved the small man onto his knee and let his feet dangle between the taller one's.

Gaston lifted his bottle to the man, an arm around Lefou's waist as he sat on the tall man's left knee, "Go on, try it."

The small man felt his cheeks heat, smiling as he lifted the glass to his mouth. It was a bit sour with a small bitterness, although the main flavour was sweet. Lefou smiled, looking up to Gaston, "This is really good! Thank you!"

Another nod in return to another thanks, this time the nod came with being pulled closer to the taller man. Gaston took another swig of grog, becoming slow but not completely drunk, which confused Lefou. 

"Lefou?" A gruff voice questioned. 

Lefou moved to get up, being stopped quickly by a tightened hold on his left hip. Gaston was holding him there, maybe he wasn't going to ask for another bottle. 

"I don't want anything more.." Gaston sighed, swishing the liquid inside his bottle, "Just.." 

"What is it?" The small man looked to the other, tilting his head instinctively.

"I'm unsure.." Was the answer, unsure of what though? Unsure of what he was doing with Lefou? Unsure of what he  _wanted_ to do with Lefou? Unsure of himself?

Lefou made a sort of squint, confused as he brought the rim of his glass to his mouth, gnawing on it. "Of.. Of what?"

"What do I deserve?"

This made the other man stop and stare. "Of course." Was the numb response, a response to a question that wasn't anticipated.

 "Do I deserve the coins? The Grog? This house?" A small pause, hesitant, "Do I deserve you?"

Lefou stared at him, wondering why these things were never asked before. Never asked when the two were alone, never questioned all those other times when the man drank until content, why had he just started talking of this? Lefou had never even thought of if either of the two deserved each other. He just wanted to. He didn't know the answer to this, he didn't really know if there was a right one. Did Gaston want to deserve him? If he said no, would that make Gaston leave?

"I.. I suppose I don't know.." Lefou sighed, looking down at his hands and tapping his fingers against the glass. 

Gaston lifted his left hand, sliding it up the small man's side and making him lean on the taller one's chest, Lefou resting his head on Gaston's shoulder. Lefou sighed, feeling comfortable with this and not really thinking of it. Until Gaston ran his fingers through Lefou's hair and untied the bow that held it all together. 

He giggled, "What are you doing?" 

"I want to deserve you.." 


	4. Calm After the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demon Gaston and Angel Lefou

Stanley died. It was to be expected from such a man. Or woman, really. Such a being that did not have someone watching him when he was out in the woods that morning. During hunting season. It was quite comical actually. 

He sat at a table in the middle of a room. A room that seemed to have a clean cut of half white walls, flooring, and ceiling, while the other half was black. A black so dark it could out do the midnight sky of a moonless night and a white so clean that it could only belong in heaven. Even the table was half and half, lined up perfectly with the clear split of the room. It made Stanley unsure of where he would end up. Would he be with the calling black that shaded half the room with shadows? Or would he walk along clouds with wings just as soft as what he would be standing upon? Although, with the way he was wearing that pink and poufy dress right now and how his face was happily painted with the most perfect colours, he doubted he would be living brightly. 

The door to Stanley's left opened, a thick fog pouring out along the floor as a creature in black walked through it. The creature stood tall, his back straight as if he had been in the army, while his hands adjusted the collar of his shirt. His eyes were shaded dark, his face seeming to be engulfed with the colour black even though the pale grey of it could be seen for miles. The creature's suit, which had once been a beautiful crimson red in the life he had lead before hand, was just as black as the rest of his side of the room. It matched too well with the painted half, the body of him disappearing while his head stayed afloat. His head that had glistening horns at the temples. Horns that stuck out horizontally and curved down a small bit. They were like bull horns that hit the wall too hard and leveled to his head when they rolled to point to his ears. 

Stanley's eyes could not be pried from the creature just yet. His eyes trailing after him as the darkened he moved to the table and stood by one of the chairs on either side of the split. The creature standing as if his bride was coming down the aisle moments from now. One of his fangs sticking out from under his lip when he smiled to the other door on the white side. The one to be questioned assumed there was supposed to be some sort of angel joining them. He judged this from the second chair, the second and empty chair that sat on the opposite side of the split but next to the creature. 

As if on cue, the door on the blindingly bright side opened. There was no fog, no bright light, no grand and slow entrance. It was just a small man that stepped in, a smile and laughing man who's face changed unsettlingly when his eyes landed on the blackened creature's face. The small man cleared his throat, adjusting the beautiful and big bow that was tied around his shirt's collar. This man's suit, one that was used in his favourite but last performance with his closest friend, as white as possible. His hair laid on his neck and back, some of it hanging on his shoulders due to a few locks being tucked behind his left ear. They were tucked because of a small, cream flower that sat between the dip of his ear and temple. A cream that was so off setting against the bright whites of everything else, even when compared to the golden halo that sat above his head. A halo glowing so bright it may as well have been white anyway. 

The new man walked to his chair, clearing his throat and looking at the creature. The two looking at each other with intense emotion. Emotion that was far from love or even liking. Emotion that filled the air with screaming silence. A growl was the reward of the cleared throat, the two supernatural beings sitting with nothing else to exchange. 

The man of white looked to Stanley now, a smile reappearing on his face. The tension seeming to clear a bit at the sight of whitest teeth. A white smile that did not falter when his hand came up and did a sort of twirl, conjuring a folder from the air like a magician's magic trick. He took the folder in his hand and sat it on the table. The man seemed to be uncaring of the other creature, opening the folder so only he could see it with ease. 

"Stanley, aye?" The blackened creature smiled, straining his neck to look over the man's shoulder. "And here I thought you were the most beautiful woman I have seen in decades."

Stanley's smile was not fake, his giggle was not either. 

"Gaston." The man in white seemed to mumble warningly, maybe even jealously. 

"It's okay. Thank you, Gaston." The man in the pink dress smiled, admiring the fang that appeared when the blackened creature was joyful as he tested the name on his own tongue. 

Gaston smiled in return, a flirtatious one at that, "So, how'd a pretty thing like you end up being judged by the one and only?" When he asked this, the creature shifted sideways, crossing his right foot onto his left thigh and leaning on the table with his left arm. It seemed to be an attempt to be nonchalant, a showoff-y gesture. Stanley assumed, or even hoped. 

A shrug was half of Stanley's response, "I shouldn't be left alone."

"He was shot by a hunter when out in the woods." The man in white read from the folder's files, "Why were you in the woods knowing that it was hunting season?"

"Maybe he actually didn't know." Gaston looked to the one in white, glaring a small bit, "Not everyone knows seasons like us, Lefou."

Us. It seemed strange hearing that. Maybe they had been friends before they got here? Stanley tilted his head at this, biting the inside of his cheek. 

Lefou huffed, looking back to the files, "What were you doing in the woods, Stanley?" 

"I was picking flowers. Really just enjoying a day out and alone." He smiled, remembering sitting in the grass with his dress. The breeze felt perfect and his hair was the best it had ever been. He had been getting good at this. 

Gaston playfully pouted, "I still can't believe such a beauty could be all alone. I bet the day was just as pretty, and you were still left without someone."

Stanley smiled, a blush tinting his cheeks.

"This is not the time, Gaston." Lefou budded in, anger bleeding into his voice.

"Time for what?" He shot back, a smirk on his lips as he continued looking at Stanley. The tip of his second fang showing as his lips tried to stop curling up. 

Lefou had his fists clenched, looking down at the folder still. It seemed he was trying not to start yelling, "It is not the time to flirt. We are supposed to be doing our job." 

"I didn't sign up for this! This is that damned reaper's job!" Gaston grumbled, turning to face the table and crossing his arms. 

"I didn't ask to be paired with you! But look at who I ended up with!" Lefou looked up now, eyebrows furrowed together. 

Gaston growled, smoke seeming to come off of his horns and steam from his eyes, "What did I do that was so fucking bad, huh?!" He stood up now, facing Lefou, "What did I fucking do, that made you so upset with me?!"

Lefou stood too, arms in the air but still refusing to hit him, "You don't even know what you did?!" 

"No! How fucking could I!? You just left and began hating me!" Gaston was yelling, louder than Lefou. It was a booming yell that could shake eardrums, even of the dead apparently. Stanley's ears hurt.

"Could you two knock it off?" Stanley jumped in, sitting at the table still as he put the palms of his hands to his ears. 

"This is not about you!" Gaston snapped at Stanley, glaring to the man in the dress. 

"It started out about me!" The man yelled back, looking back with the face of a know-it-all. 

The blackened creature of a man was about to swing, his fist raising as he stepped to the table. Although, Lefou still had his ways with the darkness that the creature held within. The man in white put his hand around Gaston's wrist, stopping it immediately. He had put no pressure or muscle into his hand, he only wrapped it around the angered man's wrist. That is all it took. 

Gaston's shoulders dropped, relief and sadness and regret flooding into him as he looked to Lefou's face. "I.. My temper.. That's why-"

Lefou hushed him, lowering their hands, "It's alright." 

"I'm.. I'm so sorry, mon amour.." Gaston sighed, taking Lefou's hands in his, "I hadn't realized.." He looked down at their hands, trying not to shake as his head swam into a daze. A realization daze. 

Lefou hushed him again, putting a hand to his cheek, "You're forgiven." 

Gaston smiled, leaning his head into the man in white's hand. They had both forgotten where they were, Stanley smiling at them from the table. He was happy for them, he only wished to be relieved of this torturous place. He cleared his throat to get their attention. 

Gaston looked to him, "Oh, yes." He took Lefou's hand as they sat back in their chairs, continuing to hold it and intertwining their fingers. "Let's continue this later." The blackened creature winked to Lefou, receiving a laugh and a smile in return. He missed that smile. He missed that laugh. He missed that face. That touch. That calmness the man in white could bring with a simple touch. He missed him. But now, he did not have to. 


End file.
